


Ladies of the Blue Lotus

by LazyWriterGirl



Series: Femslash February 2017 - I Write Best When I'm Writing Gay [5]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Femslash February 2017, Ganglord!Korra AU, Gangster Wives, Prompt Fill, Prompt: Cross, Rated for Excessive Swears, This is What Happens When I Watch Black Lagoon, implications everywhere, read into it what you will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9794900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LazyWriterGirl/pseuds/LazyWriterGirl
Summary: “You know what happens to people who cross me.”“Oh, you mean other than you telling them that you’re cross, Boss?”“Now’s not the time to be getting cutesy with me, Asami.”Or, a storm is brewing and Asami is disquieted, but only because of how upset Korra has become. Truth be told, Asami’s rather cross about the whole ordeal.Femslash February Prompt 5/12 - Cross





	

On Saturday, she marries the love of her life, but Asami Sato knows that what she’s really done is sign herself up for a world of trouble.

 

Not that it hadn’t been her world already.

 

By noon on Sunday, she knows that they’re all in for a _hell_ of a week. She knows because that’s when the first report gets to Korra. The report which _should_ have been good news, but is met instead by her wife’s enraged snarl. Though there is plenty to be angry about—between the suspicious silence of the other triads and the fact that many of their men are currently stranded in the North Pole—Asami doesn’t even have time to ask what’s wrong before the other woman is shouting something at the messenger. She feels badly for him, because this isn’t his fault; he’s _just_ a messenger.

 

For his part, the man runs out as if he’s just witnessed the birth of a demon.

 

From her place perched on Korra’s desk, Asami can just barely make out the gist of what’s written on the paper. Once she does, even _she_ has to admit that she’s…very far from pleased. They’ve lost a ship, which is unfortunate in and of itself. The problem here is that _this_ ship was carrying about fifty of her latest mecha-suits. Mecha-suits which were meant to be sent to the South Pole by request of one of their main partners. Mecha-suits for which they were expecting a ridiculously large sum of money upon arrival of the shipment.

 

The shipment was supposed to have been a secret, so to hear that the ship has been sunk—and not due to a negligent crew or a force of nature—is concerning, to say the least.

 

They’re being targeted.

 

Which means that somebody knew how vital that shipment was, and had taken steps to ensure it didn’t get to its destination. The first thing that Asami thinks is that there’s a mole within the triad—something that she’s suspected for a while now, if she’s honest—but she can’t bring it up with Korra. Not now. Not when her wife is like this.

Asami can’t blame her wife for being so angry. Spirits, _she’s_ barely keeping her cool here. Money has been a little scanter than in recent memory—something that _isn’t_ Korra’s fault, though of course she blames herself for it—and the rest of their family, the rest of the Blue Lotus Triad, is in need. They had all been counting on this transaction going through, had invested hundreds of millions of yuan into it, and for what?

Asami doesn’t realize she’s voiced the question aloud until Korra rises, slamming her fists against the dark wood of her desk.

“For us to come up empty, cupping our family’s weepy, blank-shooting dick in our hands while the Triple Threats move in on our turf, that’s for what!”

Korra is understandably upset about it all, but Asami can’t help the bubble of laughter that rushes out of her at the coarseness of her wife’s words. Out of the corners of her eyes she thinks that she can see a few of the guards lining the room doing the same thing. In times like this, everybody is reminded of how different Korra is from her father, who had famously _never_ lost his temper once during his reign over the Blue Lotus. Personally, Asami had always thought it strange that Boss Tonraq never seemed to get angry.

At least Korra wears her emotions openly enough that it isn’t too hard to guess at what she needs in times like these.

Like right now, all she needs is for Asami to soothe her with actions and guide her with words. Simple enough, except that there’s a limit to how much Asami can do while they’re waiting on guests. “We don’t know if it was them, Boss,” she says, lips curling around the word in forced amusement. As the Lady of the Blue Lotus, she could just as easily call Korra by her first name, even amidst subordinates, but the title has become something of an endearment between them; an inside joke.

Not even _that_ wins more than a temporary smile from her wife.

“Don’t know if it was them my _ass,_ Asami. Right now, they’re the only ones with the fucking guts to try making a grab for shit that’s not theirs!” Korra bangs both fists against her desk again. “See? I fucking _knew_ Dad should have just shot all their damn balls right the fuck off when he had the chance! Damn it!”

“Boss…”

“No! Where the fuck does that piece of shit Viper get off on fucking with me like this? We had a fucking deal, that stupid snake. I swear to the spirits, if it really _was_ him and his stupid fucking thugs I’m going to storm right over there and blast his motherfucking head off!”

“Shh, Boss, it will end up right again,” Asami says, chancing a glance at the bodyguards stationed at the door before running a hand down Korra’s back. It’s not that she’s afraid of judgement—they’re _married_ , after all, and have been together for years now—but she knows that Korra has a thing about appearing a certain way in front of her guards. The darker woman clenches her jaw, but Asami can see the fondness in Korra’s eyes.

It’s difficult, being in love with a gang lord, but the small things more than make up for it.

The peace between them lasts for all of five seconds before the messenger comes back into the room, dropping to his knees as he announces, “Father Tenzin and Sister Jinora from the Temple of Air are on their way, Boss.”

“Good,” Korra says, practically spitting the word out as she leaps over her desk. The messenger’s eyes widen at the clinking sound of Korra’s Beretta against her belt, and Asami _almost_ feels sorry for him as he stares up at her wife. Korra reaches for the holster—only to readjust her pistol—but the man immediately begins to shiver. Asami scoffs. Korra _does_ have a reputation for violence that makes her Boss Tonraq appear almost completely pacifistic, but really, there’s no reason for the messenger to act this way. “Ugh, like I’d waste a bullet on _you._ Damn you, man, get the fuck out of my sight and don’t come back until I call you back.”

 

It isn’t until the man runs out of the room that Asami says, “It’s not his fault, you know.” She doesn’t _care_ about the messenger, not at all, but still. The last thing anybody needs is for Korra to displace her anger down a barrel pointed at one of their own.

 

“Tough shit for him then,” Korra says, “Last thing I need is a piece of garbage like that getting his fucking snot all over the carpet. I just ordered this last month.” As if to emphasize her point Korra stoops to grab at a piece of lint—presumably from the messenger’s shirt. The way she holds it between two of her fingers, one would think it were a rat’s dropping or something equally undesirable. “Grunts like that shouldn’t even fucking _be_ in my office if they can’t make it two minutes without crying, for fuck’s sake.”

“Of course, Boss,” Asami says, keeping the exasperated affection in her tone to a minimum as a few more bodyguards filter into the room.

The Blue Lotus has a strong partnership with the Temple of Air, but this is just standard procedure. Not to mention, Korra seems to really like being surrounded by all this heavy weaponry. Asami glances around the room, unsurprised at the semi-automatic rifles tucked under arms, the pistols holstered at hips just under always-ready hands. She’s been part of this world from the very beginning, but the sight has never failed to impress her; so much power, all in one place, and it’s all her wife’s to control.

Hers now, too, technically.

“Asami,” says Korra, her voice unmistakeably in its “Boss” mode, “After Tenzin and Jinora leave I want you to get some rest.”

“Of course, Boss,” Asami says, though she’s sure that there is some confusion on her face.

“We’re waking up early tomorrow morning.” Korra looks back at her, smiling so that her teeth glint in the light. “I’d like you with me when I pay a visit to the precinct.”

Ah. Asami nods, this time oozing with confident understanding when she repeats, “Of course, Boss. It would probably be for the best.”

“Why? You think I’m gonna end up giving a few rookie detectives some nice new assholes or something?”

“I wouldn’t rule out the possibility. Better if I’m there to make _sure_ that doesn’t happen.”

“Perfect…oh, and you’re up to talk with Tenzin and Jinora, right? Because you’re Lady now, and the sooner you start acting like it, the better.”

“Of course, _Korra_ ,” Asami says, noting the way her wife smirks at the address. “Whatever you need me to do.”

“That’s my girl,” Korra says, the flirtation not going unnoticed by Asami when her wife cements the words with a wink.

 

She grins.

 

 

 

It is fifteen minutes more before Father Tenzin and his daughter step into the room, nodding to the bodyguards, who in turn set their weapons at ease in a sign of trust. Korra steps up to embrace the tall man before bending slightly to hug his daughter, and Asami is invited to do the same. When she steps back, she cannot help but notice how naturally Korra steps in front of her; a protective stance that she has been behind on more than one occasion.

A stance that had saved her life once.

“How much money did you lose with that ship?” Father Tenzin asks.

Korra grits her teeth, then looks to Asami, who does a few quick calculations in her head. When she’s finished, she says, in a voice that she hopes carries even half of her wife’s usual confidence. “All in all, about five-hundred-million yuan.”

“ _Five-hundred-million_?” Father Tenzin asks, looking as if he’s just been slapped. Asami knows that the Temple of Air pulls in a good deal of money from the four triads, acting as neutral ground—though their pre-existing bias towards the Blue Lotus Triad has been _notably_ more obvious since Korra took the helm—but a sum _that_ large must be difficult to imagine. She almost wants to pat him on the shoulder, except it wasn’t _his_ money that went down with their ship.

“What could you _possibly_ have been shipping that was worth that much?” Jinora asks, brown eyes shrewd underneath the bangs that barely conceal the blue arrow tattoos of her father’s order.

Now, Asami likes Jinora a great deal—though she does find it strange that a girl of fifteen should be so influential in their community—but there’s something about those eyes that has always set her on edge. She does her best to hold Jinora’s gaze until the silence has stretched for a minute too long, at which point she turns to Korra and tilts her head. Korra nods, prompting her to speak, and Asami turns back to Jinora and her strange eyes and says, “About fifty mecha-suits.”

“Mecha-suits?” Jinora asks, before her eyes widen in comprehension. “You were sending mecha-suits to the South Pole?”

“ _Not_ in support of the rebellion,” Korra cuts in before Father Tenzin can voice his obvious disapproval. The darker woman’s teeth clench, as if biting back extra words—choice words, really—but Korra knows better than to use foul language around Father Tenzin. His dislike of cursing is almost legendary by now.

It’s one of his most notable peculiarities amongst the other heads in the city.

“If not for that reason, then why _else_ would you do something so absolutely _reckless_ , Korra?”

Korra scoffs at that a moment, as if she were a child being scolded. Asami wants to reach out a hand to comfort her wife, but she can’t. Not here. Not right now. Instead she only stands behind Korra, silent, and waits for her wife to continue. “We’re in need, Tenzin. I don’t have enough to spread around the family, and people are beginning to _suffer_ for it. My people. We’re bordering desperate.”

“You gambled and lost, is what you’re telling me,” Tenzin says, stroking his beard slowly. Asami would laugh at the gesture if he didn’t look so serious while doing it. “How long until your people start to notice the difference?”

“The smallest players have already felt the sting, I’m sure. As for the higher ups…maybe a few weeks, if I’m lucky. Which, as you know, I’m usually not,” Korra says, and it’s strange for Asami to watch her wife be so open with someone outside of their family. She knows that Korra and Father Tenzin have history, knows the man and his order saved her wife from the streets during a time when Boss Tonraq was unable to care for her, but the level of trust that Korra has placed in the man is…unbelievable.

 

It makes Asami uncomfortable, because she understands how easily trust can be betrayed.

 

After all, hadn’t she ended up here because of her father’s betrayal, all those years ago?

 

She couldn’t bear to watch the same thing happen to Korra.

 

As if reading her thoughts, Jinora steps up to her side and beckons for her to lean down a little, whispering into her ear when she complies. “My father adopted Korra into the Temple of Air years ago, Asami. You needn’t fear that our order will betray her.”

Asami nods as Jinora steps back. She’d _suspected_ as much, but the confirmation is good to hear. It takes some of the tension out of her gut. At least Korra has allies outside of the Blue Lotus and Boss Tonraq, who’s currently in the South anyway, probably wondering when those spirits-forsaken mecha-suits are going to arrive.

“I’ll see what I can do, Korra,” says Father Tenzin, placing a large hand on Korra’s shoulder. Korra ducks her head in thanks before remembering where she is and who she’s supposed to be, and then the embarrassed little nod becomes a sharper one.

“Thank you, Tenzin. Is there anything that the Blue Lotus can help you with?”

Jinora steps in, and Asami is surprised to see the girl’s father step back to allow his daughter the floor, so to speak. “Given the current tensions between the triads, we’re a little worried that brawls will break out in too many parts of the city for us to contain, and we’d prefer to keep damage to a minimum…at least, while Father and Councilman Tarrlok are at odds.”

“You’ve gotten into another argument with the councilman, Father Tenzin?” Asami asks. This is the first she’s heard of it.

Father Tenzin coughs and nods. “The man is as stubborn as a badgermole. He can’t see that his selfishness will only _harm_ the city, not _help_ it. He wants to try to turn half of the detectives into a task force for his own purposes…and you know as well as I do what that entails.”

Asami nods. Councilman Tarrlok may be from the South, like Korra, but he has no loyalty towards his countrymen, and cares little for the lives of those operating even slightly outside the law. He would be honourable, really, were it not for the fact that his methods have proven to be excessively violent and less beneficial to the people than the quiet wars that the triads wage against each other from time to time.

At least the triads protect what’s theirs.

Giving that man a task force would be opening the city to witch-hunts, with Tarrlok’s unit starting from the bottom and imprisoning the lowest members of the Triads—or worse. Asami spares a thought for the runners, for the men and women and children who are part of the triads because of a parent, child, or spouse and not because of choice. They would be sacrifices to Tarrlok’s lust for power and recognition.

The Blue Lotus cannot let that happen.

“Is there anything that we can do for you, Father Tenzin?” she asks, repeating her wife’s question while Korra turns back to nod proudly at her.

“For now, no…I wouldn’t want him to have reason to go after you,” Father Tenzin says. “But perhaps, after we find out who was responsible for sinking your ship, perhaps we will need to plan something. While I’m here, however, I’d like to go over a few things I noticed in the reports from this past month.”

Asami nods and allows the conversation to spiral out of her hands and out of her comprehension—there are some matters to be discussed primarily between heads and heads alone. Korra leads Father Tenzin over to her desk, walking around it instead of sliding over the top as she usually does. She sits down, snapping a finger at one of the guards, who promptly pulls up a second chair for Father Tenzin. Within seconds she’s pulling a thin stack of papers out from one of the desks many compartments, and the two begin to pore over them, muttering in quiet voices.

Asami motions to a few of the guards to follow her and Jinora into the anteroom across the hall. She already knows what the papers are, and she’s certain that Jinora does too. They’re reports from the last few weeks concerning various aspects of their businesses—things that Father Tenzin needs to know for reasons of security, amongst other things. Asami had prepared the reports herself this time around, but Korra had learned them well enough that she should be able to explain everything without issue.

Not that that matters right now. Asami has a guest whose needs she must see too. The Blue Lotus is a hospitable triad, after all, especially with friends of the family. “Would you like anything to drink, Jinora?” she asks, knowing that the wine already being poured for herself will probably not be asked after. Jinora is a sensible girl.

“Water would be fine, thank you.”

Asami nods and pours a glass for the girl as a guard arranges pillows on two armchairs. She nods, and the guard salutes before stepping back into position, eyeing the door even though the odds of an attack are extremely low. It’s ridiculous how seriously they take things while guests are present, but Asami cannot complain. It’s a symbol of how successful Boss Tonraq had been in teaching his guards the value of proper behaviour.

“Congratulations on your wedding, by the way,” Jinora says as she sits across from Asami, leaning back against her chair the way that Asami does. “You’re a Lady again…how does that feel?”

“Better than it had last time,” Asami says wryly, allowing herself a moment to smile before her blank expression comes back into play. Korra may have been adopted by Father Tenzin’s order, but _she_ has yet to be. Even if they are married, it would reflect poorly on Asami to act too familiar without an invitation.

Jinora nods. “Yes, I can see why you would feel that way.”

Asami doesn’t know what to say in response to that, because it strikes her as odd, how Jinora would understand. And yet she doesn’t question it. The secrets of her past have been up for grabs ever since the day her father was sent off to prison, after all, and somebody as bright as Jinora was bound to figure things out sooner rather than later. “You approve of the marriage, I hope?” It feels strange to speak about such an important point in her life as simply “the marriage” but Asami plays by the rules.

This is just how it is.

“Of course, we approve,” Jinora says, tilting her head back slightly as if pointing to her father in the room across the hall. “You wouldn’t have been married if we didn’t.”

Asami hates that that’s true, but it is. She downs her wine more quickly than would strictly be correct. “I’m glad.” She raises a hand, waiting for a glass of water to be placed in her grasp. It’s cool and tasteless compared to the wine. Refreshing. Utterly pointless to be drinking. An excuse not to speak past those two words.

“I didn’t mean it that way, Asami,” Jinora says after a moment, and when she turns, Asami mimics her. They’ve locked eyes by the time that Jinora says, “You’re good for her. We all think so.” After a pause, Jinora smiles. “You’re a wonderful addition to the family.”

Asami feels herself relax. “Thank you.” She takes another sip, this time because she is thirsty, then says, “How have things been with your brother and sister?”

“Better,” Jinora says, though there’s a shade of worry in her eyes that Asami doesn’t like. “I only worry for them so much because…they’re just children, you know? They…don’t understand. What this world is. What we’re doing. And neither does Mother, not really. ShE only married into this life. She’s never truly embraced it; never understood it.”

“Hey,” Asami says, patting one of the girl’s hands. “You’ll be there to guide them. Protect them. You and your father. Don’t worry.”

“And if the day comes when they’re not with me? Or with Father? Mother isn’t _like_ us, Asami, not even after all these years. She doesn’t realize how easy it is to trust the wrong person…”

Asami hears the way the sentence drops off, and she knows that Jinora had just barely stopped herself from saying, “the way you did”. She’s thankful for the girl’s prudence, even if she’s old enough not to feel hurt. She _had_ trusted blindly, had believed that betrayal would never come knocking at her door, and look where that had gotten her. It is only because of Korra that she’s even alive today.

“Are you worried that there might be untrustworthy characters amidst your order?”

Jinora considers her very seriously for a second, and in the girl’s serious eyes Asami sees a very real, very _informed_ fear. “I haven’t mentioned it to Father yet, but…I have reason to believe that there is a small dissent group forming. Defectors who’ve formed a coalition of sorts… and not just from our order.” Jinora sips from her glass, then says, “I have reason to suspect that members of all the triads are involved. It might explain what’s been happening lately.”

The implication rests heavily on Asami’s shoulders; could it be that there truly is a mole somewhere within the Blue Lotus?

Jinora looks distinctly uncomfortable right now, and Asami can’t blame her. Not having any siblings, herself, she can’t imagine how difficult it must be for Jinora, as the eldest of four. Especially in a world like theirs. A world completely unfit for children. “Do you want to see pictures from the ceremony?” she asks, because she figures that what few pictures she have should prove a good enough distraction.

Anything would be preferable to the route of conversation on which they currently find themselves.

Jinora’s eyes seem to brighten at the suggestion, and she nods, for _once_ looking like any other teenage girl. “Yes, please!” Asami laughs, motioning for one of the guards, who nods and leaves the room. That immediately silences Jinora’s laughter. “Are you…sure you should be sending guards out on fetch-quests?”

“Hardly a quest; she knows where to go,” Asami says, before dropping her voice into a mock-whisper, “And besides, I won’t tell if you won’t.” It isn’t as if they’re in a state of siege right now. Things have been fairly quiet, and even if Jinora’s instincts prove correct—which they most likely will—these kinds of things are slow to take root; insidious, but slow. Much like Asami’s anger, which she’s been working so hard to keep quiet this whole time.

Jinora laughs, and the guard returns in mere minutes, holding up the envelope containing the images that Asami has yet to see herself.

They don’t talk about anything other than the photographs after that. As Asami points out a little detail for Jinora’s enjoyment, or answers one of the girl’s questions with a short anecdote, she thinks that maybe, it’s because this is as close as they’re going to get to feeling like normal women, for once. At least, she thinks it might be—she’s never really known that feeling.

Neither of them have.

 

 

 

It is midnight when Father Tenzin and his daughter finally leave their headquarters, and when they are alone in their room the first thing Asami does is reach for the knot of tension in her wife’s back. Korra begins to murmur in protest, but Asami presses her lips to the side of her wife’s neck, rubbing the tension away with her hands as best she can.

“Asami…we should rest,” Korra says, though her reluctance is clear. Asami giggles, the sound strange to her, and she accepts Korra’s lips against hers when the darker woman turns. “I’m serious. I want to get to the precinct early tomorrow.”

Asami steps back enough to see Korra’s face. Her wife’s eyes appear even brighter with the pale light of the moon to light them, but they are heavy and sad. Tired. “Do you know if Mako knows anything?”

“A messenger showed up while Tenzin and I were discussing your reports—great job by the way—and it looks like he might have something. Said I might not like it, but he has _something_.”

“Already?”

Korra laughs. “The man works too hard, but at least we’re getting something out of it.”

Asami smiles, and she and her wife simply stand there a moment, so close to the window that it feels almost stupid—even though nobody would _dare_ shoot them right now. They’ve only been officially married for a day, and yet the world seems determined not to give them the opportunity to celebrate. “Well, I guess we really should go to sleep.”

“I’m sorry, Asami,” Korra says, but it doesn’t sound like she’s apologizing. “I just don’t know what the fuck to do about this. It’s complete bullshit.”

“It is,” Asami agrees. “But we won’t be able to do anything right this moment.” She thinks back to her earlier suspicions, and to what Jinora had told her. She could tell Korra…perhaps it might help. Or perhaps it might make things worse.

Either way, Asami doesn’t think that the other woman would appreciate her hiding this sort of thing.

“What’s wrong?” Korra asks, and Asami knows she doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. She has to tell Korra.

“Jinora mentioned something that concerns me. She said that there have been quiet defections, and that there’s a small dissent group forming.”

“Within the Temple?”

“Not just them. Amongst the triads as well. All of them.”

Comprehension dawns on Korra as Asami perches herself on her side of their bed, and Asami is completely unsurprised when her wife slams a fist against the wall. “There’s a motherfucking _mole_ somewhere within the family. Is that what you’re telling me?”

“It looks that way,” Asami says, “and I mean, that would make the most sense. Even if it _was_ the Triple Threats, they’d had to have gotten their information from _somewhere_. But Korra, really…you should rest now. We’ll deal with this in the morning.”

Korra grits her teeth, grinding her fist further into the wall for a moment before nodding stiffly. She sinks down onto their bed, not bothering to get under the covers, and Asami laughs, lying down beside her wife. “I just… _fuck_. You give people so fucking much and they turn around and stab you right through your tit.”

Asami snorts ungracefully at her wife’s turn of phrase. “Shh, it will be alright in the end, baby, you’ll see.”

“You’re being awfully calm for somebody who just found out there’s been a betrayal in the family,” Korra says, rolling over onto her side so that their eyes meet. There’s a ferociousness in Korra’s eyes that would be startling if Asami had not already seen her wife in moments like this; moments of hurt and anger.

She’s hurting too—something that she hopes Korra can’t see—but they can only afford for _one_ of them to lose their temper over this right now; and Korra’s the one who deserves to do so.

Asami runs a hand down her wife’s arm, stopping short at the bullet-wound scar running across Korra’s bicep. “I’m no stranger to betrayal, Korra. All I know is that we have to keep on moving forward. For us, and for the rest of the Blue Lotus.”

Korra nods, and the fierce light dies away from her eyes somewhat. “I’m sorry for being like this, ‘Sami. I just can’t help it. I need to find out who did this.” Her eyes darken again. “You know what happens to people who cross me.”

Asami can’t help it. She grins, kissing the tip of her wife’s nose to ease some of the tension that has found its way back into their bed. “Oh, you mean other than you telling them that you’re cross, _Boss_?”

“Now’s not the time to be getting cutesy with me, Asami,” Korra says, but there’s laughter in her eyes even if her voice does not reflect that.

Asami nods, knowing that it really isn’t the time. Except that it sort of is. Because Korra needs a bit of levity right now. Before tomorrow, when they head over to the precinct to speak to their family’s pet detective. Before they begin tracking down the person responsible for selling them out.

Before retribution begins.

“Well then, Boss,” says Asami, shifting closer until her leg is pressed against her wife’s. “What _is_ it the time for?”

“Not this, either,” Korra protests, but she doesn’t push Asami away. “I’m sorry, ‘Sami…I’m too _cross_ to want to do anything other than get to the bottom of this.”

Asami sighs, pulling her wife in until they’re uncomfortably close to each other. “I understand. We’ll find the person responsible, Korra. We’ll figure everything out.” She kisses Korra once, then backs away just a little, and before she knows it her wife’s shallow breathing fills the room. Asami lies awake for a while longer, unable to sleep.

 

Whoever it was who’d decided to make an enemy out of Korra and the Blue Lotus, they’ll be found. And when they are? Well…Asami knows very well what happens to people who cross Korra.

 

But Asami will finally get to show Korra what happens to people who cross her.

 

 

 


End file.
